


Warmth to Share

by samariumwriting



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: Sylvain gives off heat like some kind of space heater, and Faerghus is very prone to cold weather. The solution couldn't be more obvious.-Sylvain gets lots of hugs from all his friends, because that's what he deserves.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier & Blue Lions Students
Comments: 25
Kudos: 125
Collections: Quality Fics, Sylvain Week Christmas Prelude 2019





	Warmth to Share

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLegendOfEm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLegendOfEm/gifts).



> Em wanted me to write something for the Sylvain Week holiday prelude (which can be found on Twitter @sylvain_week), and he picked the day three prompt, fireplace, and I worked in the friends prompt too.
> 
> You can probably read plenty of ships you like into this, if you want!

“Come on, Sylvain, shift up.” Sylvain jumped slightly at Ingrid’s words, looking up at her. He was sat on a seat in the tiny bus stop that was, strictly, large enough for two people. It wasn’t large enough for Sylvain and one other person who valued their personal space.

It was pretty chilly, though, and Sylvain knew exactly what Ingrid wanted from him, so he shifted up enough for her to take a seat next to him. Almost immediately, she leaned in, the left side of her body nearly touching his right. This was happening because, Sylvain mused, Ingrid was very stubborn and had been completely sure that the temperature wouldn’t drop this afternoon. She hadn’t brought her thickest coat, and now she was cold.

“If I’d known that all I needed to do to get a girl in my arms was sit in cold places then I’d probably be cheating on someone right now,” he said, shooting Ingrid a slightly hopeful grin.

“Not a chance, idiot,” she said, and with a single clean, sweeping movement, Ingrid pulled her right glove off and threw it at his face. Then, she settled further into her seat and shifted slightly closer to him again.

Sylvain just smiled and, slowly, put his arm around her shoulders. She really was cold, huh. “Comfy there?” he asked. Ingrid shot him an Ingrid Look, but she shifted so she could get a little more comfortable under his arm.

“You’re still very warm,” she said. It had been a running joke when they were kids; Sylvain was warmer than a heater or fire. They didn’t know how and they definitely didn’t question it, so Sylvain had always been the person people huddled around when they’d spent too long out in the snow.

Sylvain didn’t make a returning comment, not wanting to ruin the moment. He didn’t get to be as close with his friends much anymore. But this moment that they could have together was enough for him.

They sat in silence until their bus came, Ingrid with her head on Sylvain’s shoulder, his arm around her. It was nice.

-

Dedue had said it once and he’d probably say it many times more: he hated the weather in Faerghus. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to cold weather, because they had plenty of that in Duscur. It was the sudden, unprecedented drops in temperature, the ice-cold rain, the sleet, the omnipresent snow that covered everything for several months of the year and the slush it left everywhere.

Basically, Faerghus was cold, and sometimes that cold came at very inconvenient times. Such as when Dedue was doing the grocery shopping. The sun had been shining when he left the house, in spite of the heavy clouds that he’d thought were rolling away rather than closer, but by the time he left the store, icy cold rain was pouring down.

When he got in, Dimitri was waiting to open the door for him. “You should have sent me,” he complained, taking Dedue’s bags from him almost immediately and heading towards the kitchen. “I know you hate the cold.”

“It’s not a problem,” Dedue replied, though the chill had set in a little by now and he probably wouldn’t feel warm for another hour at least. Unless he turned the heating up, but no one else was cold, so he wouldn’t.

It turned out that today was the day that Sylvain was visiting from across town (according to Dimitri, he’d just showed up and insisted on starting some baking, which he tended to do every so often). Fortunately for Dedue, Sylvain quite enjoyed hanging around and doing nothing particularly constructive, just chatting and being generally quite warm.

When Dedue moved to chop some vegetables for the lunchtime soup, Sylvain followed. He stood behind him, close but not touching. When he went to get started on some washing up, Sylvain helped with the drying, constantly taking items directly from Dedue’s hands and letting the touch linger a bit.

It was a very Sylvain thing to do; he wasn’t saying a word, but Dedue knew exactly what he was doing. This wasn’t flirting, nor was it an attempt to make Dedue uncomfortable or to get a rise out of him. Sylvain’s hands were warm, even when slightly damp, and his whole body radiated warmth in a way Dedue had come to realise was unique to him.

At the end of the morning, Sylvain got ready to go, presumably intending to slip out of the house with as much warning as he’d given for his arrival. “Sylvain,” Dedue said, and Sylvain practically jumped out of his skin, caught in the doorway. “Thank you for your help earlier.”

“Oh,” Sylvain said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head in the awkward gesture Dedue used to think was merely an affectation. “I barely did anything, Dedue, you don’t need to thank me or anything.”

Dedue raised an eyebrow, and Sylvain’s face softened slightly into a smile. “If you say so,” he said.

“I do,” Sylvain returned with a wink.

“Well, thank you anyway,” he said. “Your company was appreciated. Have a good day.”

“You too,” Sylvain said, his smile bright. “Oh, and you should just turn the heating up next time. Felix was wearing like three jumpers at lunch.”

Dedue chuckled, and Sylvain shot him a short wave before closing the door behind him. Dedue watched the man disappear down the street, a small smile on his face, and went to turn the heating up slightly. He’d need it more, now Sylvain was gone.

-

“Why did I do this to myseeeeelf,” Annette whined, standing up for a moment and jumping up and down a couple of times before settling back in her seat. She let out another soft groan. “I could have just stayed at home, but no! I had to just go and need this one specific reference only text for my stupid, stupid essay.”

Most of the people who had been in the library when they arrived were now gone; the few who remained probably sympathised with Annette’s complaints. The heating in the large, rather drafty building was broken, and modern architecture dictated that there were large windows everywhere. So, naturally, it was quite cold.

“Because you’re gonna get a better grade than anyone else in your class,” Sylvain replied, and Annette shot him a winning smile. Definitely the right thing to say, because she got back to typing like she’d been possessed. Seriously, he didn’t know how she did it.

They studied in near-silence for a while, their work broken up only by Annette sighing every so often. Sylvain would say he had no sympathy for someone on a double major taking extra classes so she could graduate early, but he honestly just really admired Annette, so he did feel pretty sorry for her.

It reached a point where Annette was shivering, and she’d pulled gloves on. He’d ask her why she couldn’t just go home, but he also knew that things didn’t just work like that, so he tried a slightly different tactic. “Why don’t you move closer to me?” he asked. “I can keep you warm.”

Annette pulled a face. Sylvain couldn’t bring himself to feel particularly offended about that. “Don’t be weird, Sylvain,” she said. She frowned at her laptop screen again.

“Nah, I promise, it’s not like that!” he said. She looked up at him. “I’m warm. You can ask Ingrid or Dimitri if you like, it’s a thing. Don’t ask Felix, he’ll deny it.”

Annette looked back at her laptop, and then down at her hands. “Fine,” she said. “But if you’re not warm, I’m revoking your proofreading privileges and you’ll have to turn that in with all the spelling mistakes.” She jerked her head in the direction of his half-finished essay, and he winced. Good job he wasn’t a liar.

He shifted a little closer to her, and she did the same in turn. It wasn’t long until Annette’s shivering form relaxed a little, and she leaned in more. Instead of continuing his essay, Sylvain picked up one of the books he needed to get through at some point and slung an arm around her. Annette only smiled and moved a little closer.

-

Perhaps Dimitri had made a mistake. Just a small one.

It wasn’t his fault, exactly, it was just that he’d been having a less than ideal morning, and then he took a poorly timed nap that was interrupted by a poorly timed nightmare. And now it was ten in the evening, he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he was out in the rain and it was really rather cold.

He hadn’t wanted to be in the house. That was the problem, really. He couldn’t stay there when he’d been there all day and the shadows were starting to make noises at him, so he decided to go somewhere else. The difficulty was finding somewhere else to go.

That left him, having been out in the rain for forty minutes, at Sylvain’s doorstep.

Sylvain, contrary to what he wanted people to believe, actually didn’t spend most of his time out on dates in the evenings. He spent most of his time inside, probably eating some kind of junk food, almost definitely playing video games or reading a book (Sylvain would probably jokingly claim that he didn’t even know how to read, but Dimitri hadn’t accepted that argument since Sylvain was about thirteen and had got an A on an essay involving two books he said he’d never read).

And Sylvain, true to form, answered the door within thirty seconds of Dimitri ringing the doorbell. His mouth dropped open. “Woah, Dimitri, you’re soaking!” he said, hurriedly beckoning him in and closing the door. Dimitri was now dripping all over his welcome mat. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said, and Sylvain nodded. He clearly didn’t believe him, but Dimitri didn’t expect anyone to believe him when he said that. Sylvain started walking through to the living room, and Dimitri stared for two seconds before remembering to kick his shoes off. He hadn’t brought a coat, so he’d either have to take his hoodie off or drip all over Sylvain’s house.

“You don’t need to take that off yet,” Sylvain said, “but I’m getting you a towel so you might want to anyway. Actually-” with that, he reappeared, a bright blue towel in hand. “I’m going to grab you a change of clothes. Do you wanna sleep here tonight?”

Dimitri thought about his father dragging himself up his stairs and staring at him from the desk in his bedroom, whispering all through the night and shouting if Dimitri tried to ignore him. “I can sleep on the sofa, don’t worry about making a bed up for me,” he said.

“Perfect,” Sylvain said. “I’m getting you some pyjamas. Glue yourself to the radiator or something, or you could pick something to eat. You need to eat, right?”

Feeling slightly numb, Dimitri nodded and shuffled into the living room, attempting to make a start on drying his hair. He’d take any food Sylvain offered him, honestly. He could hear Sylvain bustling around upstairs, and he reappeared only a few minutes later with a pile of blankets over one arm and pyjamas in the other.

The legs and arms were very slightly too short, but Dimitri didn’t mind. They were soft, and not sopping wet. He draped his clothes over the radiator and waited for Sylvain to come back with whatever he’d decided to cook.

It tasted like nothing, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Dimitri was sat, warm and dry, on the sofa, with food on a plate and Sylvain at his side and the TV on in the background just loud enough that it drowned out all the little things that Dimitri really didn’t want to hear right now.

Sylvain had thrown his arm over the back of the sofa, and Dimitri took his chance, edging slightly closer. Sylvain was warm, and Dimitri was far too exhausted to refuse his offer. Carefully, he rested his head on Sylvain’s chest, listening only to the sound of his breathing and the mundane background noise of the TV (it was some documentary on ancient Faerghan geography. Dimitri wouldn’t pretend to be interested even if he was asked).

It was nice. Sylvain was warm. In his arms, Dimitri could just relax, and for just a short while he really could believe that things were going to be okay.

-

The problem with renting a cabin in the middle of the woodlands in the north of Faerghus was that none of them had actually thought to check if the place had functional heating. They’d been so caught up in ‘this is perfect’, ‘look at how pretty this is’, ‘hey, this is even affordable!’ that they hadn’t thought to ask those kinds of questions.

Naturally, almost everyone in their group was now rather cold. There was a fireplace which they could start a log fire in, but keeping that going involved collecting logs and having someone keep it going and watching it to make sure they didn’t burn down the place they were staying in. Sylvain was pretty sure that none of them had travel insurance that would cover something like that.

“Sylvain,” Mercedes said. Her smile was bright, so she was either about to say something she thought he would like or something she thought he really wouldn’t like. It was her, so he’d probably do it anyway, so he sort of hoped it was the former. “It’s so cold in here. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Ashe, who was sat to Mercedes’ right with his hands practically in the small fire they’d managed to start, started spluttering. Mercedes laughed and gently started patting him on the back. “Sure,” Sylvain said, and returned her sunny smile with one of his own.

“Wonderful,” she said, still rubbing circles into Ashe’s back. He was staring mournfully at the biscuit he’d accidentally coughed up into the fire. “I think we’ll both be much warmer that way. Thank you.”

It didn’t mean anything, of course; most of his interactions with his friends would never be anything but platonic. He valued them far too much to try and fuck it up with something like a relationship. But it was the fact that Mercedes knew, when asking him, that he’d never see it like that which made it so good.

As much as he tried to fool people to think otherwise, Sylvain actually didn’t want to have sex with everything that moved. And his friends didn’t tend to buy into that act either, hence the bed sharing.

Which was pretty nice, in the end. It was warmer than sleeping in the bed on his own, and Mercedes’ hair always smelled faintly of citrus. She was also incredibly soft to cuddle with, and he woke up more comfortable than he would have been in an adequately heated holiday destination. So, all round, it was great.

And if, for the rest of their break away from the city, he ended up in bed with a different friend each night, Sylvain wasn’t going to complain or anything. It was a nice feeling, to wake up with his arms around someone he cared about.

-

‘Pray for me everyone :(‘

‘Awww Ashe I hope everything’s okay!! What’s going on, can we help?’

‘Ahhh don’t worry Annette! But that’s kind of you. I just have an essay to do and I’m basically glued to my laptop. But after Kyphon had to go to the vet last week we don’t really have money for heating :((( I’m cold’

‘Your cat is called Kyphon.’

‘Yes, Felix, my cat is called Kyphon and he was sick last week. He’s okay now tho!’

‘I’m sure Felix is just surprised because he had a cat called Kyphon when he was younger! -Dimitri’

‘would company help ya at all ashe?’

Ashe smiled down at his phone. ‘You really don’t have to, Sylvain! Was mostly just complaining to procrastinate, you know how it is’

‘I sure do,’ came the reply. ‘I’ll be right over’

And, true to form, Sylvain indeed was right over. Within a quarter of an hour, Sylvain had set up next to Ashe on his sofa with his laptop and an armful of books of his own.

“You really didn’t have to come, Sylvain,” Ashe said. He was grateful, he really was, but he also didn’t want to seem like he was taking the man’s friendship for granted. “Thank you.”

“Oh, no worries,” Sylvain said with a shrug. He was wearing a light jumper; Ashe was buried in layers, a winter coat, and a blanket. He’d been sitting in the same spot for a while, but this work really needed to get done. “I’m here to work in sad solidarity with you.”

Ashe laughed, and forced himself to return to focusing on his work. It was easier than before, he found. And warmer. Maybe he’d just been locked in an essay crisis for too long, but it was nice to feel the warmth of another person next to him.

Sylvain was always generous with physical contact, and this was no exception. Within a few minutes of their working in silence, he scooted even closer to Ashe, and it only took Ashe a few moments to settle his head on Sylvain’s shoulder. The sunny smile he received in return was an added bonus, honestly.

It was easier to focus when he wasn’t shivering, and eventually he warmed up enough to take his coat off. Sylvain really was warm. “I don’t think I’d even need central heating if I lived with you,” he commented with a chuckle.

Sylvain returned his laugh. “Glad to help,” he said. “Feeling warmer?”

“I’m definitely feeling the sad solidarity,” Ashe said. “Thanks, Sylvain.”

-

Sylvain was dimly aware that Felix had probably been awake for slightly longer than was meant to be humanly possible. He’d been doing an assignment until very early in the morning, and then they’d all got together to celebrate the end of the academic year, and then they had to pack, and then they drove over to this camping spot.

All in all, Sylvain realised, Felix probably hadn’t slept for about thirty six hours. How he hadn’t passed out at this point was beyond him, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with ungodly amounts of caffeine.

This became abundantly obvious when they were all sitting around before going to bed that evening. The tents were up, they’d eaten a probably not particularly sanitary dinner, and Ashe was desperately trying to get Mercedes to stop telling ghost stories. Pretty ideal for a camping trip, really.

And then Felix, out of nowhere, practically marched himself over to Sylvain and sat down in his lap. “Felix…?” he asked, watching in slight disbelief as Felix just pushed himself closer into Sylvain’s chest, his hair tickling his chin. Sylvain tried not to think about how well Felix fit there.

“‘M tired,” Felix said, like this was any kind of explanation. “You’re warm.” And with that, he promptly passed out.

Sylvain tried to hold his laughter in, but it was very, very difficult. If he laughed, he might wake Felix, and that was exactly the last thing he wanted. “Is he okay?” Ingrid asked, squinting at Felix like he’d grown a second head. He may as well have.

“He must be really tired,” Dimitri said, not restraining his slightly amused expression at all. “He ordered a double shot espresso when we were getting lunch.”

“Makes sense,” Sylvain said, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. He didn’t think Felix would wake up any time soon, given how exhausted he probably was, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be careful.

The rest of their group mostly just sat and stared. It made sense; even around friends, Felix could be...well, prickly was probably a kind word to use. It was strange for Sylvain, even, to see him like this. It was distinctly out of character, but definitely not unwelcome.

When it came to the time that everyone decided to split off and sleep, content that they’d be able to watch the stars on the next night, and all the nights to come until they packed up again, Felix was still sleeping. He’d curled even tighter into Sylvain’s chest, his hands lightly gripping his shirt.

He barely even stirred when Sylvain carried him to the tent they would apparently be sharing that night, despite the fact that they hadn’t planned it that way at all. So Felix slept with his arms around Sylvain, his hair brushing his face, the warmth of Sylvain’s body keeping him close and warm without needing a sleeping bag.

Sylvain smiled up at the tent’s ceiling as he listened to Felix’s breathing. He loved his friends.


End file.
